


Go with the (Air) Flow

by Venusdoom3



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Bucky's Filthy Mouth, Deal With It, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, POV First Person, Scott Lang-centric, Super Soldier Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 04:01:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15622089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venusdoom3/pseuds/Venusdoom3
Summary: Steeling myself for their startled reaction, I'm about to drop onto the couch beneath me and restore myself to actual size when Cap, smirking, shocks me into immobility by climbing aboard Bucky's lap, facing him."That's because you make me so hot," Cap actually purrs, wrapping his arms around Bucky's neck.What.The.Actual.FUCK?





	Go with the (Air) Flow

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I know I have a chapter fic that needs updating. Plot bunnies don't give a damn about such things.

** Go with the (Air) Flow **

It's my own fault, obviously. What other idiot would don the Ant-Man suit and, without having a clue what he's doing, start punching away at the new touch-screen controlling the recent upgrades Tony Stark installed (without permission from Hank Pym, natch)? Answer: no other idiot. Only Scott Edward Harris Lang would do such a thing without thinking ahead, using the buddy system, or even telling a soul he what he's up to. 

I'm quite accustomed to shrinking; it's part and parcel of this whole superhero thing. I just didn't expect Stark to fiddle with the sensitivity of the controls the way he did, causing me to shrink abruptly when my finger barely grazed the touch screen. I also didn't expect the central air conditioning system to kick on just as I shrunk, sucking my miniscule ass right into the vent and sending me careening through the ductwork of the residential area of the Avengers facility. 

"Shit!" I yelp as I bounce off the sheet metal comprising the ductwork, ricocheting off another panel and soaring into an adjacent tunnel. It's dark as hell in here, but light nears as I thump into a dead end and get sucked unceremoniously into the next duct, which evidently ends up in someone's quarters. "Aw, fuck, don't let me get sliced in half," I mutter as the grate covering the vent approaches at an extreme rate of speed. Fortunately, I blow right through the grate in one piece and manage to catch the frame with one hand, leaving me literally dangling in the breeze.

"Now what?" With my free hand, I press the button to retract my helmet and look around to gain my bearings. I'm in a living room just like the one in my suite and every other suite I've seen thus far; there's a couch along the wall beneath me, a coffee table, a couple end tables, and a flat-screen TV opposite the couch. Weak daylight fills the room from the windows set along the outside wall. There's not a lot of décor to indicate who lives here other than what looks like a Berretta M9 on the coffee table and a large spiral-bound notebook on one of the end tables with a few pencils lying atop it. 

Just as I'm about to give up on my half-hearted sleuthing and find a way to the floor, the door of the suite gives a familiar  _beep-click_ sound, and in walks Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes, wearing all black in the form of tactical pants, boots, and a tank top, his long, dark hair twisted into a loose knot at the nape of his neck. "Jesus, it's cold in here!" he exclaims, beelining for the thermostat. He punches a button, and the grate covering the air vent slams closed less than an inch away from where I hang from the frame, startling a gasp out of me, which, thankfully, he doesn't seem to hear.

"Then turn off the air conditioning," comes another familiar voice just a second before Steve "Cap" Rogers appears in the hallway leading, presumably, from the bedroom. His longish, dark blond hair is tousled, and even though he's shaved off his rugged beard, he looks much less prim and proper than I'm used to seeing him, barefoot in a t-shirt and gym shorts. _This must be Cap's place, then, although Bucky must have a key...?_

"I did." Bucky flops onto the couch directly beneath me, his arms stretched out along the back of the couch. Said arms are equally bulky and match perfectly in size, even though the left one is made of black metal with the sheen of gold peering from beneath each joint and plate. _It really is a masterpiece of engineering,_ I muse. _Plus, it suits him. Damn, he's hot._ "For someone who always used to be shivering, you sure keep the temperature low, Stevie."

_ Stevie? _ A grin spreads across my face. I may never have heard anything more adorable than one 1940's-era super-soldier calling another by what sounds like a childhood nickname, especially because their old-timey Brooklyn accent tends to seep back into their speech when they're together. Steeling myself for their startled reaction, I'm about to drop onto the couch beneath me and restore myself to actual size when Cap, smirking, shocks me into immobility by climbing aboard Bucky's lap, facing him. 

"That's because _you_ make me so hot," Cap actually _purrs_ , wrapping his arms around Bucky's neck. 

_ What. _

_ The. _

_ Actual. _

_ FUCK? _

Bucky slides his hands comfortably down the back of Cap's shorts, kneading Cap's impressive ass. "Well, you definitely _are_ hot, baby," Bucky says with a leer. "Y'always were, even when you were a little bitty thing."

"I used to love the way you could pick me up and manhandle me." Cap sounds a bit breathless now. I have no fucking idea what to do at this point. I can't slip back into the vent; the grate is closed up tight. I sure as hell can't make myself known now that I've seen what I've seen; it's obviously a well kept secret, and I doubt they'd appreciate the team's resident jackass – yeah, I've accepted that unofficial spot in the pecking order; so what? – knowing about it, and especially seeing it. 

"I still can." Bucky easily lifts Cap to his feet before leaning back on the couch again. "Hey, I know another way you can cool off."

"Oh, yeah?" _Jesus_. The heat in Cap's voice sends a shiver down my spine. I developed a crush on him when I was seven, fantasized about him more than anyone else throughout my adolescent years, nearly gave myself carpal tunnel syndrome beating off to the thought of him after he came out of the ice, continued whacking off over him the entire two years I was on house arrest – it turns out meeting him and fighting on his team was a massive aphrodisiac – and drooled in private over him ever since I was invited to move into the facility with the rest of the team. Hearing him like this will surely give me masturbation fodder for the rest of my life.

God, I _have_ to get out of here. This is insanity. I feel like an utter creep, even though this actually isn't my fault – mostly – for once and even if I have literally no options here.

"Yeah." Bucky licks his lips, looking Cap up and down. "You need to get those clothes off, sugar."

_ Unf. Goddammit. _ I've never had a full hard-on in the suit before; turns out it fits, but it would be painfully obvious to anyone observing me thanks to the too-forgiving nature of the Pym particles. Luckily for me, I'm almost impossible to see with the naked eye at this size. My arms are killing me from dangling this long, so I manage to ease my way down the grate to the shallow ledge below it, where there's just enough room to park my ass, leaving my legs hanging over the edge. Whether I like it or not, the view from here is spectacular. I'm almost directly above Bucky's head, giving me what amounts to a balcony seat to the stage show that is Captain Fucking America peeling off his t-shirt to reveal those meaty pecs and that tiny waist and abs for  _ days _ . He's generally a pretty modest guy; I've never seen him in any less than what he was wearing before, so this image brands itself on my brain for future reference.

You know, for science.

"Yeah," Bucky breathes, palming his crotch over his tac pants. "Lemme see what you got for me."

Without a word, Cap drops his shorts and stands there, blessedly naked and rock fucking hard _all over_ , allowing Bucky to stare at him. Bucky's not the only one staring. _Oh my fuck_ , I mouth, torn between the urge to cover my eyes and the physical need to touch myself at the sight of my hero, my icon, my fantasy standing there in all his glory. I always suspected Cap would have a huge dick, and I'm not disappointed. It's perfect: long, thick, uncut, and straight except for a slight upward curve, so hard it points true north and actually covers his bellybutton. I chomp down on my gloved fist to stifle the moan that wants to escape. 

I don't want to see this, but man, I really, _really_ want to see this.

Bucky groans, sliding forward on the couch to bracket Cap's slim hips between his hands, and puts a voice to my thoughts. "Fuck, you're _perfect_ , babydoll." He punctuates the statement by – oh, _Jesus_ , lord save me, I'm dead – nuzzling against Cap's balls while he strokes Cap's insanely beautiful cock with his flesh hand, following with his tongue. If there was any question before about what goes on between these two, I'd say that answers that.

Resting one hand on Bucky's head, Cap closes his eyes, his full lips parting to release a soft grunt that goes directly into my jockeys. "I love that mouth, Buck," Cap murmurs.

"This mouth loves you back," Bucky mumbles, and I can't see his face in this position, but his smile is evident in his voice when he looks up at Cap and continues, "but not nearly as much as I do."

Cap chuckles, but the sound turns into a hitched sigh when Bucky takes Cap's dick into his mouth and evidently swallows it almost all the way down, as evidenced by his forehead touching Cap's stomach and Cap's head falling back, his eyelids fluttering. A bolt of primal lust smashes through me, and I clench my teeth at the sight of Cap's face, slack and flushed and beautiful. He far exceeds every aspect of my daydreams – not to mention my wet dreams – and I can't help thinking Bucky must be pretty goddamn special to land Steve Rogers. 

I don't know the sergeant very well; he's pretty quiet, although he has loosened up noticeably in the weeks we've all been living here together, and I've seen only glimpses of the charming guy with the easy grin Cap never stops talking about. There's no denying he's sexy, though,  with his long, silky hair and his ever-present stubble and his insanely hot body, and there's an incongruous warmth in his icy blue eyes that makes him hard to look away from under normal circumstances.

Under these circumstances, I can't look away from either of them, even though I know damn well I should. 

"Buck," Cap grunts, taking Bucky's head in both hands and pulling him gently back and off his dick. Bucky reclines on the couch again, grinning, and Cap sinks to the floor between Bucky's knees, reaching for the closure on Bucky's pants. 

"What're you after, doll?" Bucky teases as Cap gets his pants open. Without a word, Cap yanks Bucky's pants down just far enough to pull out his cock, which is just as beautiful as Cap's. I make an effort to roll my tongue back into my mouth, which is lucky, because only choking on my tongue stifles whatever sound I would've made when Cap descends on Bucky's dick and immediately begins bobbing his head. " _Fuck_ , Stevie," Bucky moans, the sound like molten silk, and my own dick throbs, demanding attention. 

_ I can't! _ I think, desperate, pressing the heel of my hand against my crotch in an attempt to quell the pulsating heat building there. The pressure of my hand only makes it worse, and, gritting my teeth, I retract my gloves, hoping the warmth of my skin will help somehow.

Nope.

Cap's busy with what sounds like a wet,  _hella_ -sloppy blowjob when Bucky strips off his tank top and threads his fingers through Cap's hair, tugging lightly. "Oh my God, sugar, you gotta stop."

Cap lifts his head, grinning and wiping spit from his chin with the back of one hand. "No way you're close already, Barnes."

"Fuck you," Bucky snarks back, laughing. "I was gonna be unselfish and tell you to get up here so we can both get off, but if you're gonna be a smart-ass—"

Looking repentant, Cap fixes Bucky with big blue puppy-dog eyes and climbs back into his lap. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry, baby."

"You're just sayin' that so I'll let you catch some of this dick."

_ Is this real life? _

"No shit, chucklehead," Cap says with a smirk, leaning in and laying what looks like the hottest kiss ever on Bucky's willing mouth. Seriously, not once in my life have I seen a kiss – in person or on screen, porn included – that revved my engine harder than this one does. At the same time, the guilt rushing through my veins triples in potency, and my face flushes a dull red; I'm definitely not meant to see this, and I'm definitely going straight to hell in an express handbasket for intruding on an intimate moment shared between two lovers like this. 

Still, what are my options? 

A) Go full size now, scare the daylights out of them, and risk the two of them pummeling me into pulp and feeding my remains to the talking raccoon.

B)Try to force my way through the grate into the ducts again and likely get crushed to death between the plates.

C) Stay small, try to get to the floor undetected, and hope there's enough of a gap between the door and the frame to allow me passage, or 

D) Stay exactly where I am until they're finished and I can make my escape unnoticed. 

Unfortunately for me, the safest option makes me feel the most like a pervert. Then again, it will also afford me the maximum amount of spank-bank material, so I guess I should look on the bright side, right?

When the kiss breaks, both Cap and Bucky are breathless and panting. "Sit on this dick, sweetheart," Bucky growls. "I gotta get inside you right now."

Cap doesn't respond other than to reach between the couch cushions and produce a small tube, which he uncaps, squirting some of the contents onto his fingers. Working quickly and efficiently, he reaches behind himself with the same hand and does something that makes Bucky's eyes roll back into his head. Then he repositions himself slightly and sinks lower, a mutual grunt between them signaling their physical coupling. Bucky's arms surround Cap's waist, Cap's snaking around Bucky's neck, and their kiss this time is hungry and edged with desperation as they lose themselves in each other.

_ Since I'm already going to hell for watching,  _ I reason, _I might as well take advantage of the opportunity._ I don't see any way around it, since I'm positive my balls will rupture if I force myself to watch these two human gods pleasure each other without touching myself. Working open the zipper on my suit, I hesitate for only a split second before pulling out my cock, shuddering at the intensity of sensation when the overheated skin of my hand grips it. 

I feel weirdly like a kid again, pulling his pud to a Captain America comic book or VHS tape or magazine article, but this time, Captain Steven G. Rogers himself is right here in front of me, literally in the flesh, larger than life, naked and rock hard and resplendent. As an added bonus, he's riding his best friend's cock, the very same Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes who accompanied him through all of his historic adventures, who was almost always at his elbow in photographs and videos, and with whom he reportedly shared a tenement apartment before the war.

Huh. It's all starting to make sense, now that I think about it.

"Fuck," Cap gasps, his hips rocking against Bucky in a slow, smooth rhythm. I can see right between them from my vantage point, and the sight of Cap's dick sliding up and down the ridge in the middle of Bucky's ripped abs sears itself into my brain for all eternity. The fact that Bucky's still wearing his pants – mostly – and his boots just turns me on more. 

Bucky groans in response, his eyes fixed on Cap's face, and I can see why; Cap is unbearably gorgeous with his reddened lips parted, his pale Irish skin flushed all over and glistening with a light sheen of sweat, and his eyes closed, his long, dark lashes resting on his cheeks. He opens his eyes, and I nearly let out a groan of my own at the lust and adoration in his baby blues when he trains them on Bucky's handsome face, which is alight with his own expression of awe and worship. These two aren't just fucking; if I've never witnessed _lovemaking_ up close and personal, which is debatable, I'm sure as hell seeing it now. 

My guilt deepens, but that doesn't stop my hand from speeding as I stroke my own cock in time with the movements of Cap's hips.

" _God_ , Steve." Bucky's rich, sensual voice shakes. "Yeah, do it, ride me, sugar. Take it _all_. You're so good, baby. So fucking hot inside. That sweet ass is so tight..." His babbling becomes muffled as he buries his face in Cap's throat, but it doesn't stop, just gets rougher and punctuated by wet sucking kisses. 

Cap is much less coherent but almost as vocal, low groans and guttural sounds of pleasure falling from his lips with every thrust of his hips. His movements grow quicker and sharper as his moans get louder, and Bucky draws back to watch him, his metal arm surrounding Cap's waist while the flesh hand surrounds Cap's dick. "Yeah, that's right," Bucky growls, thrusting up to meet Cap's downward movements. "Wanna watch you fall apart, Stevie."

"Close," Cap manages, fairly panting, his fingers digging into Bucky's shoulders. He should be a cowboy, for how hard he's riding Bucky's dick; he'd be a rodeo pro from minute one. Sweat beads on his forehead and chest, making him shimmer like a mirage, and I hold my breath to stymie the sounds my body desperately wants to make; most people wouldn't be able to hear me make any kind of noise at this size, but most people aren't enhanced by a serum that gave them literal superpowers. 

When I get back to my place, it'll be a different story.

"Buck – _oh_ – Bucky, _Bucky_ , oh _God_ —" Cap stills, every muscle tensed and defined by the strain, and then detonates all but silently, shuddering wildly, his eyes rolling into his head. Bucky wraps both arms around Steve's waist again, seemingly to hold him in place. Cap's pelvic muscles must be just as powerful as the ones visible through his skin, because he shoots so hard his release splatters up the wall above Bucky's shoulder, and as he does, he finds his voice again in the most stunningly sexy way I've ever heard, letting out a feral cry that curls my toes inside my boots. 

That's all it takes for Bucky, who comes with a scream that might make the rest of the team come running if the suites weren't soundproofed, hammering up into Steve's trembling body until they collapse against each other, forehead to forehead, open mouths brushing each other, sharing the same breaths. It's that sight that finally sends me over the figurative edge – not the literal one, thank God – and I bite down on my hand to stifle my own moans as I come all over myself and my suit. Damn; I know for a fact this thing isn't machine washable. I couldn't care less right now, however, as I stroke myself through the most intense orgasm I've ever had, watching Cap and Bucky bask in their afterglow. 

The realization occurs to me then that I just finished watching Steve Fucking Rogers and Bucky Fucking Barnes _fucking_ , and I tuck myself back into the suit and zip up, more than a little ashamed of myself. I know I had no other viable option but to stay where I was until the coast was clear, but I didn't _have to_ whack off while watching them, did I?

_ Of course you did.  _ Look _at them._ I smirk at my own mind's commentary. Okay, maybe I can give myself a little break. To resist, I'd have to be superhuman myself.

"C'mon, sugar," Bucky mumbles against Cap's slack lips, and Cap lifts his head, blinking. "Let's go get in the tub."

"Bubbles," Cap slurs, sounding almost drunk. Bucky laughs indulgently, helping Cap to his feet and rising to wrap his arms around his lover again. 

"Anything you want." Bucky kisses him, and Cap reaches up to pull the elastic band out of Bucky's messy knot, releasing his hair to spill over his bare shoulders. Man, if these two don't look like the cover of a gay erotica novel, I don't know who does. 

Holding his pants up with one hand, Bucky allows Cap to link his fingers with the other and lead him down the hallway and out of sight, leaving me shellshocked on the edge of the air conditioning vent. The sound of water running from the direction of, presumably, the bathroom spurs me into action, securing my gloves and helmet before jumping from the ledge to the couch and then the floor, taking advantage of the lovebirds' distraction to scurry across the vast expanse of floor between the couch and the door. Thankful the pneumatic doors Tony has been talking about lately haven't become a reality, I squeeze out between the bottom of the door and the floor, making sure the hallway is deserted before I tap the touch screen and restore myself to full size.

I literally sprint to my room. 

By the time I reemerge the following morning, my dick is sore and my entire lower half aches from the strain of multiple orgasms. As luck would have it, when I stroll into the common area shirtless in pajama pants, only Cap and Bucky are there, sitting across from one another at the table while they eat breakfast. 

"Morning, Scott," Cap says when he sees me, and Bucky echoes the sentiment.

I give them an awkward wave, my face turning red, and practically burrow into the fridge until the hard-on I was positive would be impossible this morning goes back to sleep.

Maybe I should start carrying a textbook everywhere I go like a middle schooler navigating puberty.

**


End file.
